


I Can Feel you Crawling Through my Veins

by Damalia (Achrya)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Animalistic, Bonding, Explicit Language, Forced Feminization, Gender Confusion, Gender Dysphoria, Jean's mouth is filthy, M/M, Mating, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Hatred, Tattoos, Worldbuilding, not really. Doesn't stick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-05 11:55:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4178889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Damalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>100 years ago the Titans, large humanoid maneating creatures, attacked and a large chunk of the Alpha population was wiped out in the initial fighting. 20 years later a plague swept through the omega population and, as a result, the remaining omegas were forced out of the military. 70 years after the first attack the SFTR program is started but it made those affected, called Sentinels, too feral and unstable to be controlled. In answer a new branch of the SFTR program is started, resulting in Guides.<br/>Armin knows he’s the stereotypical Omega; gentle, soft, and weak and he hates himself for it. His prospects of a life outside of marriage and breeding aren’t good so he signs up to be tested as a Guide and turns out to have the highest potential in history. It should be a blessing but Rogue, a feral and probably insane Alpha Sentinel, is making things difficult.<br/>Jean is a beta. He’s 17 and has never gone into heat or rut so he’s content in the knowledge that he’s a boring beta, a great soldier, a good son, and there has never been any doubt about who or what he is. Until suddenly he has no idea who he is and everything he knows to be true is torn away from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stolen Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: More A/B/O trash but vastly different from my other one. Seriously, so different. ...just take my hand and come with me on this adventure.  
> Jean was almost an Alpha this time but then two scenes kinda wrote themselves out in my head and made me laugh hysterically at Jean’s expense and here he is, once again the cranky confused omega.  
> Using Navy ranking for the military here because I want to.

Jean had always known he was a beta. His mother was a beta, his father was a beta, his older sisters were betas, and there were no omegas in his family tree for 3 generations. It was such a forgone conclusion that his parents never even took him to be tested and his doctors never thought to check his hormone levels. As time went on and there were no heats or ruts, no unusual displays of aggression, no nesting, and only attraction to betas it seemed pretty clear that everything was as it should be.

He joined the military when he was 16, eager to prove his worth and graduate in the top 10 of his training class. If he made it and could join the interior Military Police his entire family would be moved to the interior and life would change for all of them. His father been injured two years before and things had been hard since then with his mother and older sisters working themselves half to death to stay in their family home and keep Janelle, the oldest, in medical training.

But he could change all of that. Was changing it. In only a year he’d been able to send back enough money to catch them up on their debts and help afford Janelle actual new books for a change. Rachel, the next oldest, had gotten an invitation to a debutante affair (‘Husband fishing’ is what Claire, the sister closest in age to him, called it) and Jean had been able to see that she got a dress from the capital for it.

Claire was in the military already, a member of the Garrison in the second tier, but if he got the family moved she’d have a chance to transfer to Interior Garrison.

He was doing exactly what he’d set out to do. Everything was perfect.

And then, 3 weeks before he was due to graduate as number 2 in his division, his life had fallen to ruins around him. He’d gone to sleep happy and content, in not feeling a little warm, and had woken up in full blown heat. It had happened fast, with no pre-heat symptoms, and it had hit him hard enough to overpowering the suppressants that were put into everyone’s food (To keep alphas mellow and from fighting each other and to keep betas from being constantly assaulted with those alphas scents).

Even a normal heat would have been dulled, mostly scentless and only bothered the particularly sensitive Alphas in his dorm but this wasn’t a normal heat. This was his first heat and an abnormally strong first heat at that, like his body was trying to make up for missed time all at once. This had brought Alphas from all the surrounding buildings, had them outside of his dorm room, snarling and fighting to get in, kept out only by MP’s and the betas recruits. He was given to understanding a lot of injuries had been sustained as, even though suppressants kept ruts at bay, some of the Alphas had gone a little feral.

He’d been aware of them, couldn’t smell them like he should have been able to but could hear them calling to him sweetly at first, trying to coax him out gently, then louder and with filthy words that normally would have gotten someone’s teeth knocked down their throat.

Instead he’d pressed against his door, whining and scratching, wanting to get free, wanting to answering the calls and choose one of those Alphas to fill him up, knot him, breed him and that had to be the worst part.

Jean knew himself, knew himself very well. He was a good recruit, a good brother, a good son, and a boring normal beta with no real thoughts to marriage or children and that was all he’d ever wanted, until suddenly he wanted to be mounted and fucked full of pups like some omega whore and that wasn’t _him_.

It just wasn’t.

He didn’t even like kids. Hated them, actually, with a fiery burning passion but some trick his body was trying to play on him was trying to tell him different.

The heat lasted a week, which was double what a normal heat lasted, and when it had been over he’d showered for what felt like hours, long after the water had gone cold, trying to erase the stink of slick and Omega off of him.

Then he’d stumbled out of his room, exhausted, battered, bruised, and furious. There was an Omega there, one of the rare ones in the military, who worked as Shadis’ secretary, waiting to take him to see his division head. The Omega was a tiny thing with red hair slicked back into a bun and wearing the Omega uniform, a navy blue knee length skirt, lighter blue button down shirt, and navy blue jacket. Jean had never paid any attention to her before, just knew she was Shadis’ mate and thus allowed in the military and otherwise not worthy of note.

Jean didn’t even know her name; her tag just said Shadis.

There were people in the hallway and outside on the grounds, watching him as he crossed the campus. Some whispered and snickered; a few Alphas had whistled and called to him and he’d burned with anger and shame. These were men and women he’d been training with a week ago, his friends, and suddenly they were looking at him like they hadn’t eaten in weeks and he was a steak.

He itched to use his fists to wipe those looks off of their faces, to show them that whatever they were thinking now was wrong because he was still the same person and he'd still beat the shit out of any of them just like he'd been able to do the week before. 

The Omega had tilted her head to the side, soft blue eyes darting over to look at Jean. “It’s not so bad.”

Jean had just growled

Lieutenant Commander Keith Shadis was, honestly, a good person. He was gruff, rude, and hard on the recruits, well known for making them run all day or clean up after the horses but Jean liked him in spite of that. He’d never had a reason not to, after all, he did his work and did it well so Shadis was always fair with him, never dishing out the harsher punishments.

Yet as Jean sat across from the Alpha he found himself uncomfortable, squirming in his seat and looking around nervously. Shadis’ mate had reached for him, touching his hand as if to sooth him, and Jean had jumped away, glaring.

Shadis told him it was normal to be jumpy after the first two or three heats; pheromones were elevated to the highest levels they’d ever be and his body would be changing a lot during the next few months. Being wary of others was a biological response to finishing a heat unmated and not pregnant, but it would fade with time.

Jean had just sat and sulked, not wanting to hear what he was being told. He knew about shit like that, knew that the first year after presenting an Omega’s body would be adjusting to all of the changes and the increased hormones and new ‘desires’. That first year was, as a result, when an Omega was most fertile but since most presented in their early teens it was rare to be bred that early.

Not like Jean. It was unheard of to present so late; he was 17 for fucks sake. He could see how it happened and it was hilariously absurd and cyclical when he thought about it. Everyone had known he’d be a beta so he was never tested for Omega hormones, something that his body should have started producing at puberty, at increasingly high levels until his first heat had occurred. Because he was never tested all of his medical records said Beta. Because his records said Beta he’d never been tested, which meant the fact he must have been producing abnormally low hormone amounts had never been detected or suspected, so he’d never been giving medication to increase the production of those hormones and induce his heat. As a result the military had accepted him as a Beta and never bothered testing him either, which was the only reason he was where he was now.

Omegas couldn’t join the military unless they were mated to someone in the military and even then they held non-combat positions, like secretaries and medical assistants. Stupid things that kept them out of harm's way because of how precious they were; 80 years ago the Omega population had been hit by a plague and their numbers had dropped dramatically. Even now they were just starting to rebound, making up a rousing 5% of the population.

They were considered special because of their ability to carry and birth multiple children and to do so often. What with humanity being a fraction of what it’d once been and, reportedly, occupying only the small country of Wall with perhaps a few scattered civilizations outside and cut off from everyone else, the ability to pop out a bunch of kids was a big deal.

Omegas were something that couldn’t be risked to the titans.

Jean remembered feeling sick as Shadis explained he’d be removed from his dorm, from his division, from training as soon as possible. There was simply no place for an Omega sniper and spotter, not even one of Jean’s considerable talents. His whole life was crumbling around him, gone just like that. He’d been sure that, in that moment, nothing could ever hurt like being told that it didn’t matter how good he was or how hard he had worked because he was an Omega.

But then Shadis had told him that, of course, news of him presenting had been moved up the chain of command (Here the man had looked apologetic but explained that when the girl in the room next to Jean’s had gotten a hit of his scent she’d raised an alarm, which is how he’d ended up with guards at his door before he’d even woken up and realized what was going on, so there was no keeping it quiet) and there were a great many high ranking officers who were interested in him.

Jean was, after all, fairly smart, not unattractive, at the top of his class, and known for being something of an unruly smartass prone to fighting, a trait a more dominating Alpha would enjoy. (Would enjoy breaking Jean thought sullenly even though he knew that probably wasn’t the case. While it was true most omegas were calm and gentle and sickeningly maternal some weren’t and there was no reason to think anyone would try to force him to change and yet he knew what Alphas and Betas really thought about Omegas. He’d heard the things people let slip when they they knew there no Omegas around to take offense.) More that that he was of legal age and in his most fertile year, a rare occurrence. If he was mated it was all but a guarantee that he could put out one large litter within the year, maybe two depending on timing.

There was even a good chance he’d be given a non-combat position in the military and since he’d have his pick of suitors he could find one in the interior and give his family the life he’d always wanted to give them.

Just at the cost of his pride and body.

Or, Shadis had said looking at him with a deadly serious expression, he could join the SFTR program. There would have to be testing, of course, to see if he had been one of those compatible with the Guide training, but if his numbers were high enough he’d be welcomed without question considering he already had military training. His family would still get the chance to move to the interior, as those who were in the SFTR program were considered the most important military assets there were. Sentinels and Guides were on the front lines against the titans; the monetary reward and perks were high but so was the mortality rate.

He’d be expected to bond with a Sentinel. Guide training was rigorous and mentally taxing. Sentinels were often just a step above feral animals by the time they got a Guide and keeping them in line was no small task. He might never see his family again. It was a hard lonely life on the outskirts of the country with nothing to look forward to except eventually being eaten by titans or having his Sentinel torn apart by a titan and being killed by the psychic backlash.

Jean figured it sounded better than a bunch of old guys trying to fuck him and breed him so he signed on the dotted line and headed off to be tested.

He didn’t really expect to have his numbers be high enough. Every child born in Wall was given the SFTR ‘booster’ shot and in some Alphas and Betas it would make Sentinels and in some Betas and Omegas it would make Guides. There was no real rhyme or reason to why it worked in some people (a very small section of people) and not others, simply that it did.

Omega guides tended to be stronger in their abilities than Betas, which made them sought after but it took a certain kind of Omega to reject the life they were raised to want and accept one that would almost certainly end in an early grave. There were very few Omega guides, 1 for every 4 beta guides, and none that had ‘practical’ military training prior to Guide training

Jean would continue to be an anomaly if he was selected.

Guides had to have a certain level of psychic ability, granted by the SFTR booster in a rare few just as Sentinels gained the ability to fight titans head on. Jean was pretty sure he didn’t have any of that but then he’d been pretty sure he wasn’t an Omega so who knew. Guides also had to be calm, patient, natural leaders, able to talk down rampaging sentinel and have the confidence and faith in themselves to become the focus of someone else's life.  

Jean wasn’t any of that stuff. That was why he’d never gone for Guide testing to begin with. Betas could be guides, yeah, but he lacked the traits so why bother?

He’d only heard from his family once. Claire had come by in the time between his test and getting his results to tell him to just come home. They’d find him a nice Alpha and he could settle down, there was no need to throw his life away or try to stay in the military. It just wasn’t an Omega’s place, stupid Guide stuff be damned. Leave that to Betas and Alphas, like it was supposed to be.

They’d fought and she’d eventually left but not before telling him that she hadn’t believed it before but seeing how emotional he was now she knew that he really was an Omega.

He wasn’t ‘emotional’. He was pissed off. He’d been pissed off before but now, suddenly, he was a hysterical omega not just Jean the angry asshole.

In another strange twist the numbers from his psychic sensitivity test were high enough, with his empathic score being one of the highest ever recorded. (His telepathic and projection scores were low, so low they’d almost tanked his average but most people were strong in one or two and weak in the others. ...just not as weak as he was. It was unlikely that, even with training, he'd develop any manner of telepathic link with a Sentinal)

He was accepted to Guide training and given a promotion and pay raise to go along with it. Three weeks after his first heat they gave him his rifle and blades back then put him on a train to Shiganshina and then a boat to the small island the facility was on.

There was one other person on the boat; they were short and thin with long blond hair, big blue eyes, and milk pale skin. An Omega, clearly. Jean was back on the suppressants, though he’d stopped two days before to be for training, so he couldn’t catch the scent of others but sometimes a person was just blatantly their secondary gender and this Omega was very much that.

He’d tried to talk to Jean, introducing himself as Armin, but Jean had just stared back silently until the Omega had gotten the hint and retreated to the other side of the ferry.

They got off the boat and were greeted by two men, one a tall blond who was missing an arm and the other a short bland looking brunette. Jean knew they were Rear Admiral Erwin Smith, Alpha, and Lieutenant Levi Ackerman, Omega, current heads of the program, along with Hange Zoe, Beta; he’d done his research before being sent here.  He wasn't interested in more surprises. 

“Recruit Arlert and Petty Officer Kirstein, it’s good to meet you.” Smith said, smiling politely while Ackerman went to speak to the ferry captain. “If you’d go ahead and hop into the back of the wagon we’ll get your bags tossed up and be on our way.” 

Jean shook his head tightly. "I can get my own bags." 

"Kirstein." Ackerman said, suddenly directly behind Jean. He jumped then turned to look at the shorter man, who was watching him with unimpressed gray eyes. "Leave the posturing to the sentinels." 


	2. I'll Tie it Back For Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where people don't open windows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is unlikely an update will ever happen so promptly again, I usually aim for a chapter a week.

Armin wasn’t sure what to make of the other man he’d been on the ferry with. He was scentless, on suppressants clearly, and seemed to have the crappy attitude of an Alpha but the average build that, stereotypically, went along with being a Beta. He was taller than Armin but that wasn’t exactly something worthy of note considering, muscular but not ‘large’, and wearing a military uniform. He had two toned hair, a dark blond on the top that darkened to an ash brown on the way down, cut to military standards and hard pale brown eyes. Nothing at all stood out about him.

Average all over.

Not that all Betas were that way, nor were all Alphas big and intimidating, and all Omegas small and delicate. Armin was though and he hated it. Hated that people could peg him as an Omega just by sight, no matter how he covered his scent (not that he bothered doing so often since it wouldn’t make a difference). Hated that he was smaller, weaker, and that he naturally inclined to try to avoid conflicts, hated that he could never really manage to stand up for himself, and hated that everything he did was seen as a ‘quirk’ of his gender.

People saw an Omega and so everything he did was because he was an Omega, not because he was Armin. No one had really seen him as more than his gender since his grandfather had passed away and he’d been put into the orphanage.

He was stuck in the omega unit, it’s own separate tiny building, ate his meals with other omegas, was expected to spend his free time with them, expected to stay in a group when he went into town, expected to spend his heats with other omegas, as was proper for one who wasn’t mated.

It had never really suited him. There were only a handful of orphaned omegas in his district and none were really like him. They craved closeness, sleeping in piles and exchanging casual touches while Armin sat off by himself wondering why even though he had the proper look and temperament he wasn’t like them.

His whole life since his grandfather had died had been about proper etiquette and attracting a mate who’d keep him safe and (relatively) happy in spite of the face he was orphaned and poor and of suspect breeding ability (His mother had also been an Omega but had only had one pregnancy and it had yielded only him, which was...unusual.) His grandfather had told him he could do anything or go anywhere he wanted, had never made being an Omega the center of everything or made Armin feel like it was all he had to offer, but the real world was a different place.

He hadn’t had a lot of prospects to choose from. He didn’t want to be a nanny, which was a popular profession for untrained Omegas, any more than he wanted to be someone’s wife.

And sure, Omegas could go to school and go on to advanced training in a few field and with time they could be accepted for choosing a career over breeding if they were good enough at what they did, but that was something someone in Armin’s position was unlikely to obtain. He’d left school when he’d presented (not something all that uncommon in omegas), finding the attention he got from Alphas too much to take after a girl he’d known since he was in diapers had gotten handsy with him and no one had been inclined to do anything about it. Young alphas couldn't be expected to hold back so soon after presenting, that was why they had separate classes after all. He also hadn't appreciated that he was expected to wear a skirt as part of the Omega uniform (he didn't actually take issue with skirts themselves, but the expectation) and that had been a touch too much for him to deal with, so he lacked formal education.

He could have gone back to school, his grandfather had wanted him to and had continued to put aside the money for it, but Armin hadn’t. He regretted it now, not just because it limited his prospects but because he knew his grandfather had blamed himself. He had, more than once towards the end of his life, stated sadly that he had failed to raise Armin the right way, which of course meant to be sweet, soft spoken, and in search of an alpha. Not because he wanted those things for Armin but because he feared his grandson would have a hard life because he wasn’t ‘Proper’.

The headmistress at the orphanage had started asking him about suitors and children and reminding him that he was nearly 18, a whole 2 years past legal marrying age and that he wouldn’t be young, pretty, and fertile forever. Which was nonsense, the average Omega could keep popping out kids well into their forties (Though the tendency towards multiples did decrease with age) and certainly no one expected Beta women to get married and start having kids as soon as they were legal. ...Not all Beta women, at least. 

And it wasn’t as if Armin wasn’t interested in finding a mate and having a family; he thought that sounded pretty good actually. But not yet. Not to some Alpha who came by the orphanage looking for a down on their luck Omega to take home with the expectation that they be so happy to be saved they'd be happily indebted. He had...dreams. He wanted to see the ocean; his grandfather had lived along the ocean as a child before coming to Wall 60 years ago and had told Armin about it often. Wall was landlocked, with a few rivers, lakes, and hot springs, and far from the ocean. He wanted to find his own mate, that special person who was supposed to take his breath away and value him not as an Omega, but as a person. He wanted to have children when he was ready and not because it was expected or because humanity needed him to. He wasn't interested in replenishing the population (didn't see much point in it, really, considering the outer districts were already over populated and the small satellite communities along the wall weren't much better) 

It was stupid and romantic, something that had no place in a world where giant monsters roamed around and devoured people, and yet he didn't see the harm in having dreams or wanting someone that wasn't a strange creepy man who happened to have money on their side to be his mate. It wasn't like he had silly notions of protecting his virginity or something, that ship had sailed, but he wanted to be wanted and not just 'kept'. 

But the fact was he was close to aging out and having to leave the orphanage for the adult Omega House and everyone knew those places were...unsavory. Shady. Rumors of omegas being gagged and tied down during their heats or driven to selling themselves were common and, true or just horror stories, it wasn't what Armin wanted for himself. His prospects where, unfortunately, limited. He could start looking at suitors and courting, which would buy him more time at the orphanage, or he try to join SFTR, which didn’t seem all that likely to work out for him

The odds of him getting in weren’t good; he’d presented almost six years ago but hadn’t been aware of any glimmer of psychic ability and everyone knew that without that a person couldn’t be a Guide. The role of a guide depended on being able to bond with a Sentinel on a level beyond what a normal person could achieve, being able to get into the Sentinel’s head and bring them back to their humanity if they lost control.

Still he’d traveled to Trost, using up a decent chunk of the money his grandfather had left him, and taken the tests before heading back to Shiganshina to wait for the results. He’d expected a letter but instead he’d had a person from the military come to the orphanage, Lieutenant Hange,  to speak to him. He had, apparently, managed a higher combined score than any other person who’d taken the test before. It was unheard of to do as well as he had, particularly in the telepathic area (his insistence that he wasn't even remotely telepathic had been brushes aside), and SFTR wanted him.

They’d laid out an offer, most of it above and beyond what he’d expected. He would have accepted a place to live and assurance that no one would be pressuring him into marriage but he was getting that and a considerable salary, assurance that at the end of his contract he’d be given a home on the interior, that he’d be allowed to move through military ranks, and that he'd get considerable medical benefits that included birth control, something usually denied to Omegas.

He’d been willing to sign whatever he needed to before Hange had finished their spiel. He’d packed his meager belongings and was saying his goodbyes before the ink had dried. A few people at the orphanage had expressed their disapproval but he had been much too excited to listen. He knew that it was dangerous, that he’d eventually be venturing outside the walls and aiding in attempts to take back land and push the titans back and that his odds of living out his contract weren’t the best but...but it was something.

Something more than he had. A chance to actually see and do something. He couldn’t possibly pass that up.

But now that he was here, on the island, he couldn’t help but feel nervousness and a trace of fear twisting in his stomach. This was the start of the rest of his life, truly, and if he stuck with it nothing would be the same.

They’d been greeted by two men who introduced themselves as Smith, a large Alpha, and Ackerman, a bored looking Omega. Their scents were mild, which indicated they were mated, and mingled together in such a way that he couldn’t tell what came from which man, so probably mated to each other, or perhaps spent a lot of time in very close proximity to each other. They didn’t speak to each other or share any looks and kept a professional amount of distance so he couldn’t really get a read of the situation, which was something he was usually very good at.

Ackerman sat in the back of the wagon with them while Smith rode up front, reins in hands as he guided the horses along a weathered dirt road. Once they left the small dock and sandy area along the water trees rose up far above them, stretching higher than any buildings in Shiganshina stood.

“Kirstein,” Ackerman said while inclining his head slightly. “Suppressants won’t be permitted. They bother the Sentinel's senses. ”

Kirstein made an angry noise. Armin considered the agitation he saw on the other teen’s face; lines between his furrowed eyebrows, lips pressed together and turned down just slightly, hands clenching into angry fists.  

“They’ll be out of my system soon. I took my last one two days ago.” He looked away from them, out into the forest.

“Once you’re out of training, and have successfully bonded, it’s not unheard of for Omega guides to go on suppressants to block heats while in the field.” Smith said, glancing back at them. “Some find it easier. Others think it makes the eventual heat worse.”

The other teen shrugged, looking incredibly uncomfortable with the topic. “Can’t be any worse than what’s happened, can it?”

Armin looked back at Kirstein. He was an Omega? Really? Nothing about him seemed to suggest that. Beyond his height and build the short hair was also unusual for an Omega; males omegas were encouraged to grow it long. Pale brown eyes flickered over to him, catching his gaze, and Kirstein frowned.

“What?”

He hesitated then raised one shoulder in a half shrug, figuring honesty was best. “You don’t seem much like an Omega.”

“You do.” With that that other teen turned away and resumed staring intently at the scenery. Ackerman snorted. Smith sighed.

 

\----

 

They were given a short tour of the campus, which was set back in the middle of the island with only the road they’d come in on leading to it. It was, Ackerman had explain, the only major structure on the island. There were some small cabins spread about the island for training purposes but for the most part everything happened here. The main building was an actual mansion (Armin wasn’t sure what to make of that at all) which contained the recruit dorms on the third and fourth floor, the gym, mess hall, library, and various other relevant things on the first floor and classrooms on the second floor.

There were smaller buildings scattered around, including a science building, an infirmary, the stable, and a cabin where Omegas could be segregated for their heats. Since Alphas only went into rut when a compatible Omega in heat and nearby it was important to be aware of pre-heat symptoms and be ready to isolate themselves promptly.

Armin noticed that Kirstein’s expression clouded over as Ackerman was explaining heat procedures, as if he found the entire concept distasteful.

Once that was over Ackerman took them back to the main building and passed them over to Connie, another recruit in what would be their division. Connie was shorter than Armin with bright hazel eyes and a shaved head; he had the mild and inoffensive scent that all Betas did.

“I’ll take you up to the dorms.” Connie said after dropping a set of keys into each of their hands. “We each get our own room with a bathroom shared with the room next to you, and there’s a shared kitchen, in case you miss meals, and a rec room on each floor. Sentinels are kept on the left end and guides on the right, with omegas kept at the very end of the hall. There’s only 4 other omegas here right now between the four divisions and two are in the 104th with us, under Ackerman’s command.”

“Hange has the 105th, where the two other omegas are. Nanaba is in command of the 103rd and Mike is in command of the 102nd. We’re the biggest group here right now and there are about forty of us, total. Smith says it’s one of the smallest classes yet, especially when you consider some of us will drop out.”

Kirstein sighed. “You talk a lot.”

Armin cringed and held up a hand, intended to apologize on behalf of the other omega and stop any conflict before it could start but Connie laughed, tossing a wink over his shoulder.

“It gets worse. Wait until we meet the others.”

Kirstein twitched but Armin, personally, was looking forward to it. So far he found Connie to be refreshing, speaking to them not like they were beneath him or were children. The idea of meeting more people like that, especially after all that time spent in the omega ward of the orphanage, was exciting.

Kirstein didn’t look like he found anything exciting or refreshing, ever. He had a vicious angry look about him, like he could never be anything except furious. It was strange for an Omega to be so outwardly angry, their reputation for hating fighting and being the more docile dynamic was, must to Armin's shame, not entirely unearned. He had yet to meet an unmated Omega who did well in the face of anger or aggression.

Connie continued to babble, listing off the names of the others in their unit, their status, and whether they were in training to be a guide or were a sentinel. He went fast, too fast for Armin to possibly catch it all, but he was pretty sure they were a evenly split group, six sentinels and six guides, and alpha heavy.

Armin felt a tiny tendril of worry at that bit of knowledge. It was to be expected, alphas tended to make up most of the Sentinel forces, and it wasn’t like he’d never been around alphas before but...well he’d certainly never lived in the same building, the same hallway, as alphas. Had never had to work alongside them and even if he’d remained in school after presenting and gone on to trying for an education and career he would have been kept apart from alphas.

When they stepped onto the fourth floor he stopped, unable to keep himself from gasping in surprise and...something else. The scent of unmated Alpha was heavy in the air, heavy musk that overpowered the sweeter omega notes and calming beta ones. It was thick, oppressive and choking the air in his lungs, invading his nose and clinging to his tongue almost teasingly, making his mouth water. He closed his eyes tight and groaned, feeling himself sway.

It wasn’t just that there were so many alpha scents or that they were so strong, really, but more than he was about two weeks from his heat, was sensitive to begin with, hadn’t been prepared for this because if he’d known he could have done something to get ready, and that there was one scent in particular that was just...overwhelming. It was dark and warm like chocolate and something spicy and he could almost feel it against his skin, thick and heavy.

It was all of that combined that had his body trying to force him to respond accordingly to having so many unmated Alphas so close. His gums tingled, his knees shook, a pressure started building behind his eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to drop to his knees and-

“Hey.” An annoyed voice said as hands gripped his shoulders. He moved closer, letting himself huddle closer to the scentless body, hoping it would block out all the alpha. “For fucks sake, are you honestly doing an Omega swoon thing?”

“I should have warned you.” Another voice said apologetically. “It’s been raining so no one’s opened any windows today and some of the alphas are...you know. Territory shit. Scent marking everything just to get under each other’s skin. We’ve only been here two weeks and some of them came from different facilities and...they get stupid.”

That one scent, the one like chocolate and spice, was still there, stronger even than the nothingness of Kirstein. Armin moaned softly, feeling the familiar wet touch of his slick trickling out, and turned so his face was pressed deeper into the other Omega.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of the stuff I promised happened here, but Armin demanded equal time to give his backstory and who am I to argue with that?  
> Next chapter: Marco and Bert and Armin is actually kind of a pervert and Jean doesn’t appreciate it at all. Also wants to fuck Marco’s face. Wait no, not...well maybe.


	3. When You're Down and it's Hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jean is full of discontent.

 

“This is stupid.” Jean bit out and glared down at the small blond who’d slumped against him. Armin was flushed bright pink and breathing shallowly through his mouth, nose buried into Jean’s shirt. Jean wasn’t sure if he was in pain or about to get off.

Connie was standing just to the side, shifting nervously and looking around. “I can get Marco? He’s in class and an alpha but-”

“No. Fuck, like that’s what he needs.” Jean scowled then, rolling his eyes heavenward because who the fuck suggested getting an alpha to help an omega having some kind of weird scent based episode, stooped down and scooped up the petite omega. “Lead the way to my room. I’ll dump him there, open an window. Hurry before someone shows up.”

If some stupid alpha popped up to ‘help’ who knew what would happen; Arlert already looked like he was losing his shit.

Jean wasn’t looking forward to his sense of smell kicking back on at all. He’d been spared for the most part; even when his suppressants had worked out of his system after his heat everyone else around him was dulled so it wasn’t bothersome and then he’d started right back to make the train ride easier for himself. He didn’t have years of experience, or any at all really because he’d always had the normal life that came with being a beta (or having not presented yet, as the case was), dealing with things from an omegas perspective, no practice dealing with his sense of smell being more sensitive or alpha scents being ‘appealing’.

He fucking hoped he didn’t do...this. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

Connie nodded jerkily then hurried down the right side of the hallway. Jean followed, frowning at the the closed doors lining the hallway, wondering if anyone was in them. Two doors at the end of the hallway were propped open and Connie ducked into one, waving a hand at him to follow. Jean stepped in, spotting his rifle case and luggage placed carefully in front a dresser, then turned his attention to the bed.

It looked...surprisingly comfortable, compared to the barracks in Trost at least, where he’d had a narrow bottom bunk with a hard mattress and sheets that felt like they were made of wood chips. A full sized mattress, covered in white sheets with a green comforter folded up and placed on the end, sitting in a wooden frame that had drawers built in along the bottom.

He was moving up in the world. Aside from the omega thing.

That was a downgrade by all measurable standards.

He put Arlert down carefully on the bed, taking a moment to tug the other omega’s boots off of his feet because he was not okay with dirty shoes on his new bed, then looked around curiously. Connie had already opened a window, letting in a damp cool breeze, and was now coming back towards them.

The room wasn’t big and was a touch on the cramped side, with the bed pushed into the far corner, a desk and chair in the corner diagonal from that, then a wardrobe that was just a hair away from being on top of or inside of the desk. There was a door on the same wall as the desk that lead to, Jean would assume, the bathroom and then another bedroom.

Not much space to move around but that was fine; having a space of his own was worth being a little bit cramped. He could, maybe, learn to like at least that aspect of things.

He crossed over to the desk, considering the bundle of clothing sitting there, his uniform he assumed. It seemed similar to what he was already wearing for the most part; the tan jacket had a double wing emblem instead of the crossed swords that indicated he was a recruit, the shirt was white instead of pale blue, the harness and straps were made of soft brown leather instead of stiff black, and the pants…were a skirt.

He didn’t even realize he was making an angry growling noise until Connie called out to him, voice carefully neutral. It grated on Jean’s nerves because he knew it was a beta tactic to deal with upset omegas to go toneless and try to be soothing and non-threatening so they didn't cause the omega more distress. He didn't want to be soothed or coddled or have people afraid to show that he was pissing them off because they thought would be able to deal with it.

“Something wrong? I went by the sizes in your file.”

Jean’s head snapped around so he could fix a glare on the shorter teen. “I don’t wear skirts.”

“Ah.” Connie’s expression was one of confused innocence. “It’s the standard omega-”

Jean tossed the offending piece of clothing at him, smiling with grim satisfaction as it smacked the beta in the face. Connie squeaked. Jean saw Arlert move, sitting up in his bed and peering around Connie, brows furrowed.

“Uh, maybe-”

“No.” Jean said, not entirely sure which of the two he was saying no to. Connie opened his mouth and Jean took a step towards him, eyes narrowing. Connie shut his mouth with an audible snap. Good to know being an omega hadn’t made him any less intimidating at least.

“Springer, what’s going on?” A voice asked from the door. Jean cut his eyes in that direction then blinked at the new additions.

Two men were standing just outside of his room; one much taller than Jean with dark brown hair, just long enough to brush his ears, hazel eyes and tan skin. He was watching them with a guarded expression but his gaze hesitated on Arlert, lips pressing into a frown. The other was closer to Jean’s height with tan skin, a spray of freckles across his nose and cheeks, warm brown eyes, and black hair currently being mused as he dragged a hand through it, staring at Connie with an exasperated expression.

“Marco!” Connie said while, in a manner that could never be confused for subtle, hurrying to drop the skirt on the floor and nudging it behind him. “Nothing. Just helping the newbies get settled like Ackerman told me to. What uh...what’re you and Bert doing here?”

“Sure.” Freckles, Marco apparently, said. He made as if he was going to step into the room but the other man reached out and caught his arm then inclined his head towards the bed. Marco looked as well, eyes widening slightly; Arlert had pressed himself back against the wall and was watching them with something akin to panic on his face. Marco moved to the side slightly, letting the taller man walk in.

The hazel eyed man crossed over to where Connie was standing and, with a twitch of his mouth that might have been...something, bent down and picked up the offensive piece of white fabric, regarded it carefully, then sighed before tossing it towards Marco who managed to sidestep it a the last moment. “Where did you even find that?”

Connie huffed. “I was just teasing.”

“Sure. Go get pants for...uh. I don’t know your name.” The brunette turned to him, expression questioning. Jean hesitated for a moment for reasons he couldn’t put an explanation to, then looked away, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Jean Kirstein.”

“Bertolt Hoover and that’s Marco Bott.” Bert waved a hand towards the door. Marco raised a hand and smiled warmly then shot Connie a sharp look.

“Now.” Even if Jean hadn’t heard Marco was an alpha earlier from Connie he would have known. A person didn’t put that kind of power into their voice without being an alpha. Jean felt...something he could't put a name to and, as he saw Armin shrinking in on himself, he felt a spike of anger that he felt anything at all.

The shorter beta made a huffy noise then walked out, sticking his tongue out at Marco as he went. Bertolt followed, muttering about needing to keep an eye on Connie.

Marco shifted slightly, staring at Jean intently as his pupils widened a bit, like he was trying to see into him. Hell, maybe he was. If he was an alpha then he was sentinel which meant...well a lot of things, actually, if you believed all the talk that went on. He couldn’t really say what was true and what was just scared civilian bullshit but everyone seemed to agree it was like a normal alpha, cranked up twenty levels (even in betas). It made them less human and more animal and in some all animal.

Jean tapped his fingers on the desktop, suddenly uncomfortable with having that intent gaze on him, having to bit his lip to keep from snapping. Marco winced minutely then plastered another smile on his face to cover it.

“I should go. Alphas aren’t really supposed to be on this end anyway, they don’t want us stinking up your rooms.” He paused, casting another furtive glance at the blond on Jean’s bed then making a sympathetic noise. “For all the good that does since you have to go past common areas to get down here. Sensory overload isn’t uncommon when you all get close to your heats. ‘s good practice for dealing with zoned out sentinels I guess.”

Jean bristled at being included in the statement, as if he and Arlert were anything close to the same but didn’t say anything. Brown eyes regarded him for another long moment.

“Dinner’s at 6. If you’re settled by then I mean, or I can have someone bring something.” He shrugged slightly then, after another short pause nodded and stepped back and walked away. Jean walked over to the door before he even realized he was doing it, watching the brunette head down the hallway.

Yeah, an alpha without a doubt. He moved with long easy movements, bringing the word ‘prowling’ to Jean’s mind unbidden, and only alphas moved around like they owned the place and had a right to pounce on anything and everything.

Abruptly Marco stopped and glanced back in his direction, an unreadable expression on his face. Jean started, feeling like he’d been shocked as a tingling shudder ran through his body and something trembled inside of him. He shrank back and stepped back into his room, shutting the door firmly as he felt heat creep over his face.

What the fuck was that? What was he doing?

“...they seem nice.” Arlert said, voice strained. “Thanks for shutting the door.”

“Yeah.” Jean muttered. He looked around then, with a sigh, shuffled over and flopped onto the bed. The blond was still curled up and in the corner, leaving him more than enough room. Arlert had a hand pressed to his head, rubbing at his temples. “You okay?”

He wasn’t asking out of the goodness of his heart but rather to give himself something else to focus on so it might as well be the little blond omega. Logically they were sharing a bathroom and were going to be in the same division, both trying to become guides. They’d probably be around each other a lot.

“Head is pounding.” He muttered before sighing. “That’s never happened before and next time I’ll be ready for it but...so many strong alpha scents just on top of each other like that? It was like running into a wall. A really nice smelling wall. That made me kind of horny.”

Jean draped a hand over his eyes, officially no longer interested in the distraction Arlert might provide. “That’s disgusting.”

Disgusting might have been a strong word. He just...didn’t want to think about it, about alphas and shit like that.

He heard Arlert snort and could feel the other teen unfolding, his legs stretching out until his feet were just shy of pressing against Jean’s side. He frowned, trying to pull up his usual irritation at having people in his personal space but finding instead a strange comforting feeling.

He made a mental note to be very upset with himself later. For the time being this was kind of nice; Jean didn’t have many friends (Or any, not anymore at least) and certainly none he’d let lie on his bed or get this close to him and yet...well.

It was nice.

“It’s not like I was leaking slick and begging someone to come knot me. Just...it smelled really good.” The other teen sounded a little less like he was in pain with each word. Jean sighed again, louder and more pointedly, hoping he’d get the point. “Wait until those suppressants wear off, we’ll see how smug you are then.”

Jean moved his arm and stared at Arlert through narrowed eyes. “That right? You know I didn’t even know I was a...this. Never went into heat until 3 weeks ago and now as soon as these suppressants wear off I’m going to be surrounded in alpha funk, something I’ve never even noticed before but is supposed to what, give me a hard on now?”  

What the fuck was that anyway? He’d gone out with a couple of beta girls before this but if he was honest with himself it was never anything more than hanging out in groups or playing wingman for someone else, but he’d also never given alphas, male or females, second looks. He was willing to admit he’d never really been interested in anyone, not really, not like other people were.

He’d never thought anything of it. He was busy anyway, too busy for relationships, so he’d figured his lack of care was to his benefit. Now he was starting to question everything, wondering about the things he’d thought he’d knew about him.

Bad enough that his body had decided to betray him and that he was losing everything but now he was wondering if he could trust anything about himself.

Arlert mouth dropped open and his eyes went comically round. “What? That’s...you….how old are you?!”

He frowned back intently. He shouldn’t have said anything at all and wasn’t sure why he had except...well, he was frustrated with all of it and hadn’t really had a chance to do anything talk about it. No one could be bothered with asking how he felt about all of this, it was just ‘This life is no longer an option, here’s your alternatives’ and he was just supposed to be fine.

Maybe he wanted to vent a little.

“Too fucking old to suddenly present and have everyone expect me to just go along with it.” Jean spat then rolled his eyes, trying to force the images of the hungry looks he’d gotten from his once-comrades after his heat and the bubbling angry those images brought up away. “18 in two months.”

Arlert cocked his head to the side, sniffing the air. Scenting Jean? Maybe. He expected everything to be flushed out of his system if not tonight than by tomorrow afternoon, it was possible the dulled near scentlessness the suppressants afforded him was starting to fade.

“Your head’s going to explode. You’ll probably bend over for the first alpha that comes near you.” He looked so serious, not a trace of humor on his face, and Jean couldn’t help the startled and dismayed bark of laughter that escaped his lips.

“Aren’t you omegas supposed to be demure, sweet, and...you know. Innocent and chaste?”

“That what you are?” The blond shot back, not missing a beat.

“Maybe that one that was here. Marco?” The blond continued when all Jean did was look away sulkily. “He smelled nice. Kind of cute.”

Jean frowned, resolutely not allowing his mind to stray to that look Marco had given him in the hallway and the strange warm tingling feeling it had caused. “Fuck that guy’s fucking freckled face.”

Arlert chuckled. “If that’s what you’re into.”

“Seriously. You’re disgusting.” He wasn’t blushing.

He wasn’t.

And so what if he was. It was just an involuntary reaction, didn’t mean anything at all.

“Not all alpha scents will give you a hard on, by the way.” Arlert said as casual as other people talked about the weather. “Just the ones that smell like they’d fill you with lots of their seed and give you a litter of strong healthy pups.”

Jean rolled to his feet and stalked to the door that lead to the bathroom, wrenching it open and escaping inside as the blond’s laughter followed him.

“I’m kidding!”

Jean shut the bathroom door after him but it did little to muffle Arlert’s increasingly loud laughing.

 

\-------

Jean woke up the next morning, the scent of omega heavy around him. For a bleary moment he was confused and then he groaned and pressed his wrist against his nose, inhaling deeply.

Yeah.

That was him.

Fuck his entire life.

It actually wasn’t that much different than his original scent, something like grass and rain but with the soft sweetness that was omega blended in, which was kind of comforting. He was still himself in this, more or less.

He pushed himself up to his feet and shuffled over to his wardrobe. He’d managed to eventually extract himself from the bathroom and face Arlert, Armin, last night and had even unpacked his stuff while he was at it. He liked keeping things neat and in their place, maybe a side effect of living in the barracks with almost no space to call his own and punishments doled out for those who didn’t keep their spaces up to regs.

He jumped in for a quick shower, mostly to lessen the scent a little before he went out since he knew he’d need another after his run, then changed into running shorts and a tshirt, pausing for a moment to peer out of the window in his room. The sun was just cresting over the horizon, causing a pink stain to creep over the deep purple of the night.

He wasn’t sure about the layout of everything just yet so he wouldn’t go far but hopefully he’d have a good lay of the land soon.

He stepped out into the hall, tensed and ready for the ‘wall’ Armin had described the night before. Instead he found himself staring at two startled looking people, two females.

The smaller female was lilacs and roses with omega sweetness underneath and the second was...damn. Like copper and sweat and dirt and he could taste the metallic tang on his tongue, and now that he was aware of those two he was aware of everything in the hallway. Other omegas close by, faint beta scents, and then alphas, far enough away that he couldn't really distinguish from the one standing in front of him and it all just blended into one overwhelming thing.

Like a smacking right into a wall. He might have said something or made a noise but it was hard to really say because the world was spinning and trying to fall away from him.

Points to Armin for accuracy. This was...something.

How did people live like this? It was awful! Being an omega, being this hyper aware, was horrible. He really didn’t want to be this.

A jolt of pain brought him back to himself all at once and he gasped for air he hadn’t realized he needed. The air tasted like alpha but the tang of blood in his mouth was more pressing. He blinked and rose a hand to his mouth, hissing as he came into contact with his lip. A glance down found blood on his fingertips.

“Are you okay?”

He snapped his gaze up to look at the two women; one, the omega, was tiny with long blond hair that fell around her in loose waves and big blue eyes. The alpha was taller, about Jean’s height, with brown hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and sharp brown eyes.

“Yeah. Just...didn’t expect an alpha right outside my room.” He said, grateful that his voice was even in spite of the fact his stomach was trying to tie itself up in knots.

The alpha in question was watching him with open amusement and interest; he felt hot and cold all at once. He swallowed thickly and the alpha smiled faintly before looking him up and down slowly, eyes lingering on his lips.

“You should do something about your lip.” She said then smiled again, flashing teeth. Jean had the sudden urge to bare his neck for her.

He didn’t. Prodded his lip with his tongue instead and let the sting keep him grounded.

The small blond nodded. “Ymir’s right. I can clean it up, if you want? I was a nurse before this.” She made a vague gesture to everything around them as she said ‘this’. “I’m Historia, by the way.”

Jean shook his head. “I’ve uh...got it. Thanks.” He groped behind him for the doorknob and all but fell backwards.

The last thing he saw before not-at-all-slamming his door shut was Historia’s pretty face scrunched up in confusion and Ymir’s predatory smirk.

He let himself slump onto the floor. Maybe he’d skip his run just this once.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Historia comes by with the other omega in their division to apologize for Ymir's behavior. Jean finds he's incredibly bad at being attracted to the 'right' people and it's awkward all over. Armin is drawn to a green eyed alpha who smells like chocolate. (At least one of these things will actually happen)


	4. They Ignite our Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean sees Mikasa and it's a problem. Armin runs into someone. Literally.

* * *

Armin woke up, feeling groggy and confused, to the sound of the shower running and and looked around, trying to puzzle out where he was. This wasn't his bed at the orphanage, it was much too soft for that and there was a distinct lack of other occupied beds in the room. In fact the room was much too small and...oh. He groaned quietly as he remembered where he was then realized that his room was still dark and that he could just barely see the sun rising in the distance. He pulled his blanket up over his head and cursed whatever stroke of bad luck had resulted in his getting stuck sharing his bathroom with an early riser.

He was pretty firm in his opinion that there was no reason to get up before sunrise. It was just wrong and sick; if this was going to be a regular thing he was going to have to rethink his current stance on the other teen.

Jean was rude and angry and had no issues expressing those emotions, clearing not caring that as an omega he was supposed to be sweet and calm, least he be labeled hysterical, unable to control himself, and in need of some big strong alpha to control and calm him.

Armin had to admit that he liked that about the other teen already. It had to be hard waking up one day and finding out you were an omega by going into heat (Armin had always known and even if he hadn’t he’d presented at a normal point, not on the cusp of adulthood) and suddenly having people treating you different. There had to be pressure to fall into the proper role, Jean had said as much the night before, and Armin suspected that most people would wilt underneath it, let whatever life they’d had before be snatched away and just do what was easiest.

Jean on the other hand clearly, and loudly, resented that he was expected to be any different than he’d been before. The bitter scowl he’d been wearing while talking about his family was all Armin had needed to see before deciding he and Jean were going to be friends.

Jean just didn’t know it yet.

He’d started to feel the strange pull he always felt around other omegas, that quirk of evolution that made them group together when unmated for the sake of safety in numbers, but it’d been muted and barely there because of Jean’s suppressants. Normally he’d ignore it, finding other omegas as tedious as he did, but instead he’d reached out to Jean, not touching but close enough for their scents to mingle a little bit.

A silly instinctual desire, really, to have those ‘close’ to him carry a bit of his scent as if they were pack. Jean hadn’t seemed to mind; once he’d stopped blushing and come back out of the bathroom the night before he’d let Armin stay close without protest. Then again Jean probably had no idea what was going on.

The finer points of being an omega, such as what really went on during heats or omega packs or really anything beyond clinical biology and fertility related stuff, were generally just not talked about. It was all deemed too distasteful and ‘personal’ to even acknowledge in ‘polite’ company. Omegas were expected to be blushing virgins most of the time and sex fiends during heats and never ever was the latter supposed to be talked about.

He could still recall perfectly when Jesse, a female omega, had told him it was inappropriate to discuss his heats with anyone except the medical staff. She’d looked down her nose at him like he some kind of disgusting bug and he’d just stared back, unsure if it was worth pointing out that she spent her heats with the other omegas in their ward, huddled together to pet, touch, kiss and whatever else made it easier to get through that didn’t involve bonding and penetration, so it wasn’t like they weren’t all intimately acquainted of each other. Of course that didn’t matter. Getting through a heat was one thing, talking about what actually went on? Well that was just taboo and disgusting. Being close to other omegas and spending heats together was expected, encouraged even, since they couldn’t breed together and thus there was no threat of accidental pregnancies, but talking about the why, the how, scent marking between omegas, or the unique bonds that could be formed was unheard of.

Armin had been lucky in that his grandfather had always had a policy of total honesty and had never made him feel embarrassed for his curiosity. He’d gotten every book on secondary gender and dynamic theory that he could find for Armin and answered any question he could.

Armin figured that Jean was pretty much a blank slate so it’d be easy to keep him from getting caught up in the sticky etiquette web they were supposed to navigate. He found the whole thing rather exhausting, personally.

He was just starting to doze again, things having gone silent in the bathroom, when a coppery scent tickled his nose; it was soft and barely there. He cracked open his eyes and pulled the blanket back, breathing in to parse it better. It was faint; grass and wet earth mixed with the rusty scent of blood.

He rolled out of bed and shuffled over to Jean’s room, passing through the still damp air of the bathroom, then pausing as he pushed the door open. Jean was sitting on the floor, back to the door that lead to the hallway, knees pulled up to his chest and head bowed.

Armin shifted on his feet, trying to swallow the urge to get closer and comfort Jean. The scent of blood combined with the distress in Jean’s posture was pulling on the part of him that was very ‘omega’ and wanted nothing more than to touch, sooth, and help.

He didn’t think Jean would appreciate it.

“You’re bleeding.”

Jean’s head snapped up, pale brown eyes narrowing when he focused on Armin standing just inside his room. Then he leaned back some, letting his head rest against the door. “You’re very observant Armin. I’m impressed.”

He was still being a jerk so he couldn’t have been that hurt. A quick once over found Jean’s lower lip the source of the blood; a thin sluggish line was creeping towards his chin. Jean swiped at it anxiously with the back of his hand then let out an annoyed huff.

“It’s fine. Should stop bleeding in a minute or two.”

“What’s wrong?” Armin walked in and perched himself on Jean’s desk, ignoring the way the other teen arched an eyebrow at him.

“What makes you think something is wrong?” Armin just stared at him pointedly and after a moment Jean’s lips quirked into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Disregard that. I left the room to go on a run; it was...overwhelming. There was some alpha girl right outside and I could barely think straight with her there.”

Armin sighed. So much for alphas not being on their end of the hallway, between Marco and whoever had been in the hallway this morning it seemed like a common enough occurrence.

“It happens. At least you didn’t pass out or need to be carried to your room.” And have a pounding headache for an hour afterwards.

“Not this time but you’re close to your heat and that makes things worse, right? Whenever my next...when it happens again who knows how I’ll react.” Jean’s ability to cram so much emotion into his words was pretty amazing; the bitterness was so thick Armin could practically taste it.

He considered Jean’s words carefully, trying to find what would be most reassuring but also honest. “Your sense of smell does get stronger about two weeks out, to help you scent out a compatible mate. It can be pretty bad the first couple of times.”

He’d suffered through a few migraines in his first year after presenting, when everything was raw and new and he’d felt strange and different in his rapidly changing body. Even his own scent had felt like it was just too much let alone dealing with other people.

“But it gets better. You learn to filter without even realizing you're doing it.”

“Well that should be very helpful today.”

Armin shrugged dismissively. "All alphas and omegas have to learn to deal with it."

Jean glared back darkly.

 

\-----

 

Jean looked like he was in pain at breakfast, a grimace seeming to take up permanent residence on his face. Armin tried to give him some pointers about filtering scents but, honestly, it was hard to explain. It was just...something you learned to do eventually to keep the headaches away.

The cafeteria was full and bustling when they walked in, everyone sitting around in civilian clothes. Thankfully Connie had shown up to walk them down to the cafeteria (“So you don’t get lost.” He’d said with an oddly somber expression on his face.) then explained that the uniforms were just for official stuff like lineups and training with 3-D gear, no one actually wore them for the daily classes. Jean had looked alarmed at that but Armin had been thrilled, much preferring jeans and a hooded sweatshirt to the stiff uniform.

He felt bad for Jean but, personally, felt fine. With something like thirty people crammed into one room it was probably overwhelming for Jean but for him it was just like it normally was. It all just blended together with the smell of food and become background noise, which is what he was used to.

Generally he wasn’t aware of other people’s scents; they were there and if he focused on them he could identify all the facets but he didn’t go around trying to sniff people or committing different scents to memory. Sometimes he might catch something strong enough to peak out of the blend; an omega close to their heat or an alpha close to rut or trying to catch his attention but for the most part scents weren’t something he dwelled on.

Even with his heat so close everything was nice and settled now that he was better prepared and a bunch of territorial alphas weren’t scent marking everything in sight.

They’d ended up sitting at a small table with Connie and a girl with reddish-brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and, if the pile of food in front of her was any indication, a serious appetite. She introduced herself as Sasha, a beta guide in training, in between inhaling her oatmeal then encouraged Connie to start pointing out the others in their division.

Jean had just sighed and put his head down on the table, muttering something that sounded like ‘oh yes, please.’

“He’s having a sad boner kind of day.” Armin said by way of explanation when he saw the confused look Sasha was giving Jean. Which got him an even stranger look from both of the betas, of course, and a hard elbow in the ribs from Jean. He winced but otherwise ignored it, opting to shove the fruit on his tray around while plastering a fake smile on his face. “You were going to point out the others?”

“Oh right!” Connie nodded, successfully distracted. Sasha went back to cramming bacon into her mouth as Connie twisted around and started pointing.

Armin followed Connie’s finger to another small round table where four teens were sitting and talking to each other. Two he recognized from last night, Marco and Bertolt. The other two were both blond, one a large muscular man with flinty green eyes and the other a petite woman with hair slicked back into a tight bun and dark blue eyes.

“So that’s Marco from last night. You already met Bert too, and the blondes on either side of him are Annie and Reiner. They’re all from the same border community and are sentinels. Bert’s the only beta sentinel in our division.” Connie looked thoughtful for a moment. “Marco and Reiner are pretty nice; Marco’s the division representative so you can go to him if you need anything or someone’s giving you grief. Bertolt’s really quiet-”

“Everyone is quiet compared to you.” Sasha broke in. Connie stumbled over his words for a moment while Sasha laughed delightedly.

Connie frowned and looked like he was going to say something then his eyes darted to the side. “Hey, Historia, Ymir, and Mikasa are down.”  

Standing by the door were three women. One a tall brunette with freckles over her nose and a half smile on her lips. She had an arm slung around a small blond woman who was gazing up at her in what could only be called adoration and was talking to a woman with long dark hair spilling down her back. The dark haired woman was average height but was clearly well built; her sleeveless shirt showed off the muscles in her arms and clung to her back. She had a bright red scarf wrapped around her neck and covering her mouth.

“The girl with the scarf is Mikasa?” Jean asked. Armin jumped, startled by the other teen suddenly being engaged in the conversation.

Connie nodded. “Yeah. She almost never comes in here to eat with us.”

Jean nodded absently, almost all of his attention focused on the dark haired woman. Armin watched him out of the corner of his eyes, noting that this was the first time he’d seen Jean look anything other than pissed off or like his head was about to explode. Now his eyes were open, pupils wide, lips parted, and a flush creeping up his cheeks.

Armin let himself focus on the other man for a moment, not surprised at the sharp tang of arousal in the air. He snickered then covered it with a cough when Jean leveled a glare at him.

“She’s an omega.” Sasha blurted out. Armin winced as Jean’s expression shuttered and his eyes went dark.

“Okay.” Jean didn’t say it but the ‘So what?’ was very strongly implied. Sasha and Connie exchanged a look that spoke of confusion and something close to distaste. Omegas taking up with other omegas romantically was not completely and utterly unheard of but it wasn’t considered normal or something that should ever be encouraged. No children could be produced in such a union and considering the emphasis on omegas having kids something that essentially meant two omegas wouldn't be breeding was viewed as unnatural and wrong.

Jean was probably aware of that but, judging by the stubborn set of his jaw and glare he didn’t particularly care.

Sasha and Connie exchanged another look then Connie spoke, words careful. “Well she...I mean we think she’s got an alpha.”

Sasha’s ponytail bounced with the enthusiasm of her nodding. “There’s one other alpha in our division. They were both here before us, for a while I think, and she takes food to him and I think she sleeps in his room.”

“When he’s actually sleeping in his room.” Connie added then yelped when Sasha punched him in the arm. He glared and rubbed where she'd hit him. “Oww, Sasha, what the hell?”

Jean rolled his eyes then, with a huff, stood up. He cast one last look towards the woman in the red scarf, who’d moved over to the buffet line with a tray, then headed for the door. Armin sighed then pushed back his chair, intending to go after the other omega.

“So. He hates us, right?” Sasha asked. Armin pressed his lips into a thin line and shrugged, deciding discretion might be the better part of valor in this case. Instead he waved at them then hurried out after the other omega, though not fast enough to miss Connie’s whispered:

“Well what kind of omega likes other omegas anyway? It’s gross.”

He figured Jean was probably back in his room (it’s not like there was anywhere else to go or Jean knew much about the area just yet) so he headed that way. He rounded the corner that lead to the stairwell then stopped, blinking.

Jean was sitting on the steps, tucked into the corner and as close to the wall as he could manage, hunched over with his head in his hands. Armin hesitated but only for the time it took his hind brain to kick in and a wave of stomach twisting concern to hit him. 

"Hey." 

Jean’s head snapped up and then he groaned, expression going from startled to annoyed to pained in rapid succession. Armin felt a twinge of sympathy as Jean put his head back down and sighed.

"I don't need you to chase me down."

Armin licked his lips, trying to choose his words carefully before speaking. "It's just...you seemed upset and, for what it's worth, I don't think they meant-"

Jean snorted. "I don't give a fuck about them. I've spent my whole life with betas and alphas and their opinions of omegas. A few grossed out looks are nothing."

Armin opened his mouth then shut it, brow furrowing. What exactly did alphas and betas have to say? He let it roll around in his head for a moment then set it aside for later. 

"Your head?"

"Yeah." Jean whispered. "Too much."

Armin nodded then realized Jean couldnt see it. He rubbed the back of his neck, considering then walked over and sat next to him, pressing against the other omega's side. 

He felt Jean stiffen next to him but made Armin no attempt to move. Instead he swallowed nervously, looking around to be sure no one was coming their way or up on the stairs, then commanded himself to be calm. Letting his scent be touched by anxiousness ir nerves wouldnt help. One last calming breath then he started humming low in his throat. 

He didn't need to look up to know Jean was staring at him and he was tempted to just drop it but he thought it might help and as long as no one else saw or heard him he could get over it.

Omegas were built to be soothing and calming, especially to pups and each other, through scent and touch and sound. Being so had never been something he'd put effort into before but he could remember his mother purring to him when he was sick or upset. 

It felt strange, a scratchy rumbling under his skin and in his throat, and sounded off at first, or at least not how he remembered it but then again it had been over a decade since he'd heard another omega purr.

It fixed itself, the vibration moving to his chest, deepening, and becoming something not at all like a human at all. He pressed his hand against Jean's, the only bare skin he could easily get to, and focused on the other omega's breathing, trying to match his own with it.

He didn't know how he knew to do that, or how he'd worked out the purr, but after a few minutes he could feel Jean started to relax next to him. 

He kept it up until Jean picked his head up from his hands. When he cut it off he felt strange and tingly, all over, like the pins and needles from his hands or feet falling asleep. 

"That an omega thing?" 

Armin shrugged "They didn't teach you about how we can help each other when we're 'distressed'?" 

"They don't teach that shit to betas." Jean's face was a mask of irritation. 

"I guess that makes sense. Wouldn't do much for betas." Armin said thoughtfully. Jean's expression became even bleaker. It took a moment for Armin to catch up but when he did he winced.

Jean had thought he was a beta until a few weeks ago and this was just another thing that made it clear that he wasn’t. Lessened the headache, sure, but only because he was susceptible to that sort of thing. 

"If you're not up to it I'm sure you could get excused today." Armin suggested lightly. Jean shook his head and, with a grimace, levered himself up to his feet.

"Never took any sick days before, not going to start just because I'm an omega." 

Jean spat omega like it was the dirtiest word he could think of or a personal offense and Armin's explanation that dealing with changed senses and, at times, too much of everything wasn't an excuse died on his tongue.

He watched the other man storm off, a cloud of nose burning anger and bitterness swirling around him, and couldn't think of a single thing to call after him to get Jean to stop or calm down. 

What was there to say really?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *pets Connie and Sasha* They aren't being jerks maliciously. They just don't know any better.


End file.
